Monster machine

Each time number four is with us for a prolonged stay, our washing machine turns from well-behaved and hard-working to capricious and, even worse, voracious. He eats socks. Lots of it. And all those socks he eats - his name is Calanthe, I should give a serious consideration about renaming this one, because a Calanthe is not one everyone can handle - belonged to number four. Number five loses her socks in her room, but those reappear eventually, at the latest when I grab the vacuum cleaner to vacuum under her bed. Number four´s socks won´t. I do not know how Calanthe pulls off this feat, because at this point he should be heavily constipated, but those socks aren´t in son´s room, and they aren´t in the hamper either, so they have to be somewhere inside Calanthe. Hubby swears he has put them into this one´s womb, but they are gone for good. Since son will have to go back to university on Tuesday, a trip to the super supermarket is called for on Monday, because this one at least has a sparse sortiment of underwear and socks. Not that easy to acquire such things in times like these. I have to admit I have tarried too long, so Amazon is no mean of choice this time. Of course, I might have sent the package to the flat number four lives in, but knowing him and his flatmates none of the three would get up early and open up for the parcel service. Parcel service is always early here. One time a package got delivered at six in the morning. Alexa informed me two hours later. By then three more parcels had arrived. You see, we do not always support local shops. The main reason is that shops here do not even have a webpage where you can order from, sad but true! Getting a new washing machine is way easier, electronic retailers deliver next day, but socks are a different case. Be afraid, Calanthe! I have spent a fortune on branded socks the last years, your time is almost up now that you won´t change your habits! And since it is my turn this time it is me who will have to do the trip to Graz. Two and a half hour´s drive there then back again. We will grab lunch at the supermarket, no travelling inns open. Unfortunately hubby has a heavy schedule these days, sigh!

Concerning the pickle: Would you be able to find it in the chaos of kitchy glass ornaments? Should I even try to get a new cucumber? What I fear is that our grandchildren might crash the tree when searching for the green hideousness in exchange for an extra present! They are such a gang of rascals!